My StepBrother Sasuke
by heavenlyhuntress
Summary: ••ღ••In the summer before Hinata's senior year, her father and Mikoto Uchiha are getting married. Hell for Hinata - the flower girl - and Sasuke - the ringbearer. Things prove, as usual, much more complicated. SasuHina.•
1. Chapter 1

**Dreams**

Hold fast to dreams  
For if dreams die  
Life is a broken-winged bird  
That cannot fly.  
Hold fast to dreams  
For when dreams go  
Life is a barren field  
Frozen with snow.

**Langston Hughes**

* * *

**Title**: My Stepbrother Sasuke  
**Summary**: In the summer before Hinata's senior year, her father and Mikoto Uchiha are getting married. Hell for Hinata - the flower girl - and Sasuke - the ringbearer. Things prove, as usual, much more complicated. SasuHina.  
**Rating**: T of course.  
**Author**: HeavenlyHuntress

**Chapter One**

Married.

My father is. Getting. Married. I feel as if he's being forced into this thing.

Hence,

Marriage-(noun) act of discontentment. Past tense; divorce.

It's too late now. I couldn't stop him if I'd wanted to.

He was hopelessly in love, rushing into it puppy dog eyes love, and allowing me to get stuck between a rock and a hard place.

I've been living with my mom for the past ten years - I was six when they divorced - and I visit my father over the summer.

Last year he was so excited to see me he took me to McDonald's.

It's no small wonder I didn't send him a Father's Day present.

**XXXXXX**

"You're so lucky to be going," Ino sighed, stretching across the bed. She was painting pink over her navy blue toenails. The resulting hue was an electrifying dark purple.

"Rephrase that sentence so it's grammatically correct," I shot back.

Opposite from me stood Sakura, who was trying on my huge hat. It looked ridiculous on her small, neat hair. On mine, the hat fit like it was made for me. Ever since I turned twelve, my hair had grown both larger and more...poofier.

"You're still lucky," Ino wailed again, flinging her feet up to the light to admire her toes. "My mom won't let me travel anywhere beyond my own street! Stupid, stupid!" In emphasis she brought her fist down. It defied gravity; that the open bottle of nail polish didn't topple over.

"You don't go to a _marriage_, though - "

"Guys - inhale, use your gills, or whatever you do to obtain oxygen. It's just a summer. We'll see each other next year in twelfth grade." TenTen worked on screwing the cap back on the nail polish bottle.

When done, she neatly threw it into my open suitcase. It was more than eight feet away.

It was Sakura who put placed her arms around my shoulder and told me to relax.

"Besides, how bad can a wedding be?"

If only she knew.

If only we knew - if only _I_ knew.

**XXXXX**

I bade a tearful goodbye with Sakura, a solemn handshake from TenTen (seriously!), and a hug from (and more wails) Ino.

My mom took pictures of us. Sakura and I were loudly crying, our eyes too swollen to see. Ino was holding back tears. TenTen was assuming her usual poker face, but underneath the tomboy facade was sadness.

What will become of us? I wondered, desperately, as I shut the door behind my friends.

**XXXXX**

The flight was uneventful save for the bald man beside me who slept on and off. Every time he awoke his arms reached out, and every time, he groped my knee. I couldn't do anything but grit my teeth. The middle class seats were too crowded to move my legs.

I arrived at the airport in a whirlwind of two carry one bags, horribly scuffed hair, and a sore right knee.

The attendant bumped into me and I crashed into two goth looking teenage boys.

"Ah- uh - sorry - sorry - " I always stuttered when I wasn't with my friends. I hurried along, ignoring their snickers.

Finally I emerged from the long line with a sad, downtrodden ego.

The fluorescent lights were way too bright on my sensitive eyes. I searched the massive sea of faces, wishing for a familiar one. I stood alone, away from the crowds of people.

No, that wasn't a great idea. I was short for fifteen, about 5'6. At least, short compared to classmates. As I tried to crane my head I found it impossible to discern one body from another.

And I was too timorous to try and push my way through.

So I waited.

Presently the throngs of people thinned out and I hurried over to my father.

Hiashi was standing fully straight, his back never showing weakness. He looked older than fifty five, yet he was only forty nine. As usual, his rather long, neat hair was brushed back, accentuating his wise - at least, I thought they looked wise - eyes and wrinkles.

He was with a slightly shorter woman with short dark hair and a homely figure. From the way her hands were held I could tell she was nervous.

I walked up to them, showing my teeth like a good little girl. "Hi, Dad. Hi...?"

"Mikoto," she offered, turning slightly.

Kioko wasn't beautiful. At most she was pretty. My eyes detected the way her face kept turning to my father's. Their hands were linked.

She wasn't family. But she was...she had...made my father happy...

"Hi, Mikoto."

Her dark hair bounced as she smiled widely. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Um...you, too..."

My father said no more as I carried the luggage to his car.

**XXXXXX**

It turned out, apparently, that my father had moved in with Mikoto. He'd moved all his belongings from the old, comfortable mansion of the Hyuuga home and transferred it into a new, immense house with new furniture.

So much for following old traditions.

"Listen," Mikoto practically sang. "I've got so much wedding arrangements to make! Here - " She trailed off with a confused look on her face.

"Hinata."

" - Oh, yes, Hinata...I'll take your luggage; to your new room!"

"Bloody brilliant," I attempted a British accent.

When my father shot me a death glare - _mess this up for me and I'll hunt you down_ - I swallowed and looked down. It wasn't like me to be a smart-ass.

"Oh," called down Mikoto once more. I was getting to really hate her voice. "I have a son, too. Hanabi has already met him. I hope you two can be...friends..."

Her words dropped like bricks in the soft silence. "He's the same age as you. Sixteen. Senior this fall."

"I'm fifteen," I answered stiffly. Just to clarify her mistake, I added quietly, "I'm not sixteen. He's _not_ the...same age as me."

At that moment I caught another glimpse of my father's face. It held warning.

I looked away, my feelings too complicated to disentangle. Presently I heard his footsteps going upstairs.

He hadn't even said "I'm glad you're back."

**XXXXXX**

A short while later I heard someone come in. With paranoia I shot a look over my shoulder.

"Hinata!" Hanabi cheered exuberantly, her arms held out. She hugged me like a sister would; for the moment I felt warm and loved for.

"How're you doing, big sis? I haven't seen you since last summer!" Hanabi lived with my father. She was short and thin, with glossy dark hair and big, childlike eyes.

"I'm good, I guess. Good as can be." I smiled, glad to focus my feelings to happiness.

" I can't believe you're back! I have so much to tell you!" Her eyes were shining. "I can't wait for the wedding! I can't wait! It's going to be fun - Mikoto's so nice! Ad did you see Sasuke? He looks sooo hot. But he's like a silent tombstone."

"Hm?" I sat back and let her do the talking.

"He never says _anything_. It's like someone ducktaped his mouth. I'll call him Silent Sasuke for the rest of my life!"

I nodded. Hanabi was much more social than I was, even though she was just twelve.

"I can't believe you're back," she smiled. And then her eyes lit up. "Did you see those fall fashions? Aren't the shoes adorable? Like, I _love_ the ones with the silver buckles, though they're sort of tacky - waaay tacky. But then again, the blue flats are cute, too aren't they? And what about the spring green type? Is it your type? - What do you think about them?"

She eyed my shoes brightly.

Sneakers.

"Oh."

She spent the rest of the time deciding what shoes I would wear for the rest of my life.

She had...changed.

**XXXXXXX**

My room was ginormous. It had a queen-sized royal blue bed - with canopy - and a soft, tickle-your-toes type of rug. The dresser was light brown and the lamp was a creamy white.

A walk-in, sleep-in, -live-in closet stood in the far end of the room, the two doors open, inviting me in.

I loved this room already.

But as I picked up the comforter and squeezed it in my arms, there was a strong feeling of discontentment. The room was a hoax, just a little something to inveigle me into liking the marriage.

Liking Mikoto and her son.

Although it hurt to admit - because the room was my dream room, everything I'd wanted it to be - I was not grateful.

I was not thankful.

I pushed away the comforter and wandered around the open hallway. My father and Mikoto were in the upstairs office, talking in low voices. I heard the words "she'll get used to it."

Hanabi had told me she was in a summer camp for dancing. She must have been practicing in her room right now. I heard soft music from the room directly across from mine.

I heard a low male voice, singing from the radio. Strange. Hanabi really _had _changed. She _had_ loved classical music, only classical.

I swung open the door and peeked in. "Hana - "

I froze, gripping the brass doorknob tightly in my hand.

"You should knock."

The male voice had not been from the radio. Dimly I remembered Mikoto's words - "Sasuke, my son."

I usually did not think twice about what people were wearing, but now - He had on a black jacket, black pants. If I could see his toes I would have thought they had black polish.

He turned around.

He had black eyes - _red_, tinted by the light, most likely - an unpenetrable countenance, and jet black hair.

"I - I'm sorry; I thought this room - was - " I didn't bother to explain any further. It didn't appear he was listening. If he was, he gave no indication of doing so. Taking a tight, if not sweaty, grip on the doorknob, I turned away and pushed the door closed.

**XXXXXX**

The dinner was steaming hot, _piping_ hot, if anyone used that word anymore, and it looked delicious.

The food melted in my mouth, crumbling into light savoryness.

I could not cook - and my mother didn't, either. It was always take-out. I was used to seeing her calling nervously into the telephone for delivery. On lucky days it was pizza. Unlucky days, some exotic food no one ever liked.

All along the dinner I saw my father smile in the corner of his mouth at Mikoto. It was like they held their own, secret sign language.

I would have pushed away my chair and bolted upstairs if I was not frozen in place.

Sickening.

My father never - Hiashi _never_ - displayed "Public signs of affection".

He loved this woman. He _did._

He had never said "I'm glad you're back." To me.

Hanabi chattered away rambunctiously, and Mikoto laughed and smiled, showing very white teeth. It was like she was part of the family already. I was a stranger to this - this group of people. I didn't know them.

I wanted to push away my chair - even better, take my bowl and slam it into the table. Of course, I didn't. I ate quietly, unnoticeably, swallowing the tender meal of chicken and peas whole.

"Is that all, Hinata? Are you sure you don't need any more? Girls like you need to grow."

I smiled back. "No, it's fine. Thanks."

Mikoto laughed. "How's my cooking? I hope it's not that bad."

It was like something in me snapped. There was a beast scraping in the palce where my heart used to be - I felt it explode with anger. I forced it down.

"It's awesome."

Behind the sink I pretended to rub my eyes while my tears poured down.

I was so weak. I cried too much. It was not a big deal; her cooking was extraordinary - my mother's was not - it shouldn't have mattered.

"I - I'll go upstairs n-now." I ran as fast as I could, to the bathroom, and locked myself inside, and I cried.

* * *

**Hope you liked it. Review if you did!  
(don't bother if you didn't.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**All That is Gold Does Not Glitter**

All that is gold does not glitter,  
Not all those who wander are lost;

**JRR Tolkien**

* * *

**Title**: My Stepbrother Sasuke  
**Summary**: In the summer before Hinata's senior year, her father and Mikoto Uchiha are getting married. Hell for Hinata - the flower girl - and Sasuke - the ringbearer. Things prove, as usual, much more complicated. SasuHina.  
**Rating**: T of course.  
**Author**: HeavenlyHuntress

**Chapter Two**

Day Two in Mikoto's dream house in my dream room in hell.

Sunshine - (noun) the promise of a wonderful, stress free days full of smiling people and glittery teeth.

Well,

Ugh.

Ugh.

_Ugh._

There are days when the sun is shining, the birds are singing, the sky is blue, and the whole wide world is perfectly damn happy by itself without you.

Today was such a day.

First was the sunlight. It burned a hole through my retinas and I was forced to wake up and drag my carcass into the shower.

Second was the water. It was, for once, not freezing. It was scorching.

Third was the clothes. And the climate. And the sun and the bugs. It was way hotter here than in my house with Mom, and I had to wear a jacket because underneath was a sleeveless shirt.

Fourth. Sleeveless shirts were a no-no with Hiashi.

Fifth was the whole breakfast. By the time I pulled myself downstairs everyone - including Hanabi - sat - _primly_ - at the wide mahogany - _mahogany_- table.

"Oh, Hinata!" Mikoto's voice. "Good mooooooooooooooooooooorning!" (that actually never happened.) (But pretty close).

"G'morning."

"Scrambled eggs and orange juice."

"Sounds good," I acquiesced. I was starving.

"Bacon, sausages, milk - (do you like water?) - and lots of hash browns!"

"Um, good."

"Or do you prefer apple juice?"

"Water."

"And toast and waffles."

"Mm hmm."

"Spinach, pork intestines, and my head on a silver platter."

"Definitely."

I sat down at my seat and glared at my food. It was literally six inches high. With a fork I prodded the bacon. It dripped oil. My stomach churned and my appetite vanished. I pushed the plate away.

"Hinata?" questioned Mikoto.

"Do you know how much trans fat is in the bacon alone?" I accused, just to be nasty. Four pairs of eyes looked up at me. My father's was furious, Hanabi's was worried. She kept glancing back at Mikoto as if needing her permission for something. Sasuke's I couldn't read.

"N-never mind." I chewed a piece of toast to make my father satisfied, and I pushed back my chair. "I - I'll eat later," I promised quickly, and bolted out of there.

I couldn't do this. My usual shy self was becoming hateful and resistant to change. But _nothing _had hanged, I tried to console myself. Hiashi was stoic as ever, Hanabi was determindly cheerful, oh - I -

But Mikoto. She was _perfectly _nice to me. And Sasuke - He _hadn't_ been rude.

It was me.

Me, the misshapen, bitter girl standing at the foyer, indecisive. At this thought I couldn't help crying. I wanted to fit in. I wanted to be a part of the family so badly.

I would do anything.

**XXXXXX**

That night something in me died.

It was like a physical blow.

I woke up rather suddenly in the night. I was running, so clearly, so swiftly, from something. _Something._ I was covered in sweat, my clothes were ragged, my breath was uneven, and I had fallen.

I had fallen.

At that instant all thought left me.

There was a deep rattle somewhere in me, and then and there, I knew something in me had...died.

I woke up to the soft moonlight and the quiet outside lamp light.

My pillow was swathed in sweat. I sat up, sobbing. It wasn't the fact I did not fit in. I hadn't fit in since grade school. It was the fact that no matter what, no matter where, I couldn't bring myself to love, when I was so _lucky_.

There were people world-wide who would murder for one chunk of bread, and they worked the hardest and received the lowest pay of all.

There were people who were born crippled or blind. There were people who couldn't hear or speak.

There were people dying.

This wasn't hard! - I was _making this hard._

Clenched fists. Resolute air. Tilt head up, confident. Be confident.

If - If I wanted to fit in, I would try my utmost hardest.

**XXXXXX**

"HINATA!" shrieked an ear-splitting voice. "WE'RE GOING TO THE SHOP TODAY!! WE'RE TRYING ON DRESSES!! I CAN'T WAIT!! DRESSES!!"

The mixture of blinding sunlight and screaming woke me up the next day. My groan was muffled by the raucous cheeping of birds outside

"We're trying on dresses today!" she repeated, all the way from downstairs.

I clamped the pillows into my ears, attempting to drown out the squealing. I rolled over, tangled up in my sheets like a half-baked mummy, and promptly fell face-flat into the floor.

The small table beside the bed tipped dangerously.

It was at that exact instant that the door across from me opened and Sasuke stepped out.

The next exact moment the small table fell over my prone, tangled up body.

And then it was at that exact second _afterwards_ that I, being the clueless person I was, decided to show my teeth in a hopeless attempt at a good-morning grin.

I think he actually -_winced-_ before tactfully sliding his gaze away and starting downstairs. I watched the doorway with my mouth still in bared in a feral grin.

Crap.

**XXXXXX**

I entered the kitchen with a raving hunger and a craving for a binge on ice cream, soda, and anything and everything with bacon. Funny what not eating the most important meal of the day does to you.

The kitchen was silent but full of people.

Four pairs of eyes were trained on me as I stepped in.

(Deja vu...)

"Um..."

Then I noticed my father was actually _patting_ Mikoto on the back. On his face was the sincerest form of sympathy, but since he hardly ever had a face other than the disapproving one, it looked as if he was concentrating on math homework.

Not a funny sight.

"Th-the dress shop was closed for the m-morning..." Mikoto explained. Her eyes were red and puffy, I realized with surprise. "W-what do I do?? I - I've tried all the other ones in - " hiccup - "town, but they're all e-expensive or closed for the s-summer - "

I tried opening my mouth but couldn't.

"W-what do I _do?" _she lamented softly. Hiashi gave a slight cough that sounded like a hiccup, too.

I didn't know whether to burst into laughter or burst into hysterical hoots.

The silence resumed with the occasion sounds of Mikoto's unsteady breaths, everyone's gazes avoiding eachother's, and especially Mikoto's.

Then I spoke in a rather steady voice, "Why can't we go in the afternoon?"

Four pairs of eyes trained on me as if I was God and I had just Spoken.

Mikoto responded with soft sobs, "B-but the wedding is in a w-week - there's so much to d-do...and I - the time - after d-dresses is bouquets and f-flowers - "

Hiashi interrupted smoothly. I never knew he could do that. "Mikoto, we can just wait. I believe that's the best option right now. Why don't we all take a vote?"

I gazed dumbly up at him.

"Vote in favor of waiting."

I blinked.

"Two votes. In favor of..." He trailed off uncomfortably, then resumed the professional voice, "...another miscellaneous option."

I gaped.

"Two votes."

I ogled. I don't think I'd ever heard of something more stupid before. The choice was obvious. It was eleven in the morning. We would only wait for a few more hours for the dress shop to open, and besides, there was lunch.

"Hinata, you haven't voted."

I think I screamed with laughter. Either that, or opened my mouth and said some really nasty curse words. Either way, four pairs of eyes widened in shock at my outburst. I think it was the screaming with laughter.

"Y - you've got to be kidding me!" I tried to lower my voice, but it was practically hysterical. I'd never spoken on such an extreme before. "A-are you all _dumb_ or something? It's obvious, isn't it? I - I mean, seriously! It's just a few hours of waiting - "

Hiashi spoke. It was something like a death threat.

"Hi-na-ta..." His voice was low and rumbling. "You will go to the bathroom and lock yourself up in there for four hours in the dark."

"F-father, I'm not _six_ anymore."

"Hi-na-ta, you have just interrupted a very important cerem - " (Was he going to say _ceremony?)_

A different voice cut smoothly into my father's words.

"We should just wait. It's not a big deal."

And then came my father's voice again, but this time it had drastically changed. It was warm and melodious. "Why, Sasuke, my son to be, you're _right_!"

Sasuke shifted his gaze to my father and then to me, as if trying to decide who was the more psycho one.

I heard Hanabi give a soft sigh of admiration.

Then Sasuke grimaced as if he'd just found out his mother had decided to marry into a whole happy psycho family.

Wait. He _just_ found out?

**XXXXXX**

After a lunch of noodles and 30-minute meals that actually needed an hour, my father pulled my arm and literally _forced_ me to flinch.

His face was all scary and dark from the shade of lighting and his teeth were horribly exposed in a feral grin. I think it's hereditary for some reason.

"Hi-na-ta," he said in a low, creepy voice. "You will _not_ interrupt such an impromptu and vital ceremony _ever again_. If you do, and do not! - I will be forced to - " He seemed to have trouble considering.

"It wasn't such a big deal - "

"I will be forced to confiscate your toy bunny."

I would have snorted but I had to go along with the act. When I was six I'd obsessed over this pink toy bunny that I still had today. Hiashi still thought that that threat worked.

So I acted.

My eyes grew huge and chibi-like. "N-no! Not my toy bunny! Anything but the toy bunny! Nooooo!!"

He nodded. "That's what I thought."

I breathed a sigh of relief inwardly.

He was about to turn when I saw his face grow back into the old lines of worry and aging. My heart plummeted. Had my father really grown so old so fast? It seemed like just yesterday he was younger looking, holding my small hand, laughing.

"Please, Hinata," he said softly, unlike himself. "Don't ruin this for me. I love her."

I nodded, unable to speak. Tears were welling in my eyes.

He left, and the tears fell.

It was all me, wasn't it?

All my fault.

I hadn't tried hard enough.

**XXXXXX**

The dress shop's opening time eventually rolled by, and Mikoto, Sasuke, Hanabi, and I all piled up dressed in T-shirts, shorts, sandals, and sunglasses. Without my father, it was a bit more merry in Mikoto's van. We lathered in sunscreen and passed the bottle around.

I hadn't officially said anything except a "thank you" from the sunscreen, and even then my voice had been too soft. In spite of that, things were looking a bit more up. The dress shop was close, so no drowning in sweat, and it was of the elegant, top-class variety with exceptional seamstresses and everything.

I'd never tried on a dress that was built to fit me - I both looked forward to and dreaded the outcome.

Still, the silence in the car was a bit too long now - Mikoto should turn on the radio -

"Sasuke, you don't use sunscreen?"

The voice that filled the silence was none other than mine. I'd noticed idly that he'd been toying with the bottle for a few minutes now. It was just like me, inept little anti-social freak I was, to say something so random and awkward.

He shifted his sunglasses so he looked at me with his unreadable eyes. Even behind my sunglasses I felt the weight of his glance.

"It doesn't say non-greasy."

"O-oh."

Silence reigned again, except this time it was accompanied by an even more bored-looking Sasuke. Most likely he thought I was the biggest loser that ever spoke to him.

Suffice it to say, I was rather glad when we reached the dress shop.

I really shouldn't have been.

**XXXXXX**

As soon as I walked in, I knew I shouldn't have.

Actually, I was rather naive. I think I actually enjoyed the slightly overbearing smell of perfume and the cool air-conditioning. And I even tolerated the flamboyantly pink (gay, as Ino would have claimed) wall paper.

It was all good, practically, until I saw the woman who would be taking charge of my dress.

Let's start off to say I was not a lucky camper. Or happy, for that matter.

Pan the video camera out - Hanabi had a seamstress who looked kind and rather motherly, Mikoto had a seamstress who knew what she was doing and who was wearing the most gorgeous pale blue dress. Even Sasuke, who was going to the other room to try on tuxedos, got herded out by a nice gentleman.

So how come I got the lady with the thong?

I am not even kidding.

She wore eency weency shorts and a revealing tank top. The moment she bent over slightly, it was all 'I see London, I see France!'

It was a _really really_ small red thong, the type you see on teenage strippers.

Um...my seamstress was about forty years old, with hugely curved pink nails and hair the size of Texas. And it turned out her personality was one bitchy one.

"Turn your head, sweetie," she snapped impatiently, her nails sinking into my neck, "I can't zip it up if you don't."

Then,

"Hold your breath, honey - Hold your breath! Suck in your stomach. You're not all that skinny, you know."

I tolerated the insults. And the nail-prodding. I was cursing her to hell every time I felt her three-inch nails dig in my skin. I swore I couldn't take it any longer, but I forced myself to.

When she was finally done fussing and prodding, she stepped back.

I breathed out with relief. The dress was like a second skin, extremely tight, and pink, but it wasn't as if I hadn't worn clothes like these before. Money got tight when I lived with my mother. I was used to the tiny hand-me-downs.

I looked down from the tall pedestal that I was on to see her reaction.

"Oh...oh, that's just terrible."

I blinked. She wasn't talking about me. She couldn't be.

"Oh...no. Mikoto! Mikoto, come over here."

From the other side of the room, Mikoto came, her hair brushed back and gleaming, her face red with excitement. "What? Hinata's dress? Does it fit?"

"Oh, no. It won't do at all. You'll have to order another completely. We'll start from scratch."

My face blotched a red that would put roses to shame. Tears sprung from my eyes.

"See here?" The seamstress pinched an area somewhere above my thigh. My body was too numb from the tightness, I couldn't feel her nails anymore.

"Uh huh..." Mikoto's face took on a look of concentration. She looked as if _she_ were trying to blink back tears. I must have ruined her perfectly planned dress attire.

"The dress is much too small for her. How old is she? Twelve? Thirteen? Just going thtrough puberty?"

"Um..." Mikoto's gaze didn't look up to mine. "She's sixteen."

"Sixteen?!" I could have sworn I heard a snort and a whisper of "undeveloped."

"Yes." Mikoto's voice was soft now. "She is."

The room was unbearably, suddenly hot. I couldn't hear anything. I looked around nearly frantically. Hanabi wouldn't look at me either. She was staring down blankly at her perfect pink dress. It made her look so beautiful.

Tears of shame burned in my eyes. What was so wrong about my body? Why couldn't I look beautiful either?

"Look here." My seamstress pinched the same place, harder. This time I felt it, a stinging numbness. "Her hips are more than proportionally wider than her chest. The dress you selected if for thirteen years olds. The chest fits - " I heard her snort again. - " - but the hips are way too tight. We'll need to start from scratch."

"Oh...oh, I see."

I blinked away my tears. I couldn't stand this anymore. Snatching up the folds of the dress, I jumped off from the pedestal in a very un-Hinata-like fashion. I could hardly breathe from all the tightness.

"I - Just - "

I saw Mikoto's shocked face and the seamstress' also surprised face in one huge blur. And then the tears fell. And more tears.

I ran. I couldn't see anything but flashes of pink. I know I was sobbing.

"Just - forget about me! Forget it!"

Heaving, all energy exhausted, I crouched in the doorway just out of sight. The hall way was darker. There was no pink wall paper.

I wiped my tears with the long pink sleeve. There wasn't enough fabric.

It seemed like forever I crouched there, crying silently; no one came for me. When I thought I'd regained my composure, I stood up.

Sasuke stood there, as if a statue. His expression was unreadable, but his eyebrows were knitted together. He looked handsome in the tux, the same kind of beauty I knew I would forever fail to reach.

"It doesn't look that bad."

I stared at him until my vision blurred again. I couldn't even comprehend what he'd just said. All I know was, I pushed past him with the words, "You're wrong," and when I finally figured out what he was saying, I'd turned the corner and it was too late.

That night, I cried myself to sleep.

* * *

**Chapter Two is posted!** Aww...sorry the chapters so far always end with crying. There was a bit of Sasuke/Hinata in the end. I'll add more along the way. Sasuke's really not that bad. He's more human-like than I thought I'd put him as.

I don't usually proofread my stories, so it would be AWESOME if any readers volunteered nicely to beta-read this story. I'd worship you.

Anything else? I think the length was pretty good, for me. Hanabi will play a backseat role, but Mikoto and Hinata will later have a mother-daughter sort of bond.

Please drop a review - I'd really appreciate it!!

Superflyingtacklepounce,

**HeavenlyHuntress**

**7/28/07: **Btw, the last dress scene was slightly based off of SisterHood of the Traveling Pants. Just a quick notice!


	3. Chapter 3

_excerpt_

**The Want Bone**  
-my favorite poem-

The bone tasted of nothing and smelled of nothing,  
A scalded toothless harp, uncrushed, unstrung.

**Robert Pinsky**

* * *

**Title**: My Stepbrother Sasuke  
**Summary**: In the summer before Hinata's senior year, her father and Mikoto Uchiha are getting married. Hell for Hinata - the flower girl - and Sasuke - the ringbearer. Things prove, as usual, much more complicated. SasuHina.  
**Rating**: T of course.  
**Author**: HeavenlyHuntress

* * *

_sunday night 9:02 pm  
From: SunnyHina192  
To: Pinkyswearxoxo_

**~o~o~o~o~o~o~**

Don't patronize me. Seriously, do NOT patronize me.

Patronize, as in: (verb) sympathize and coo all over me, saying it's gonna be ok when it's not.

It's not my fault I was dragged into this marriage. Yea I know the place I'm staying is humid and sunny and perfect for a tan, but um, since when do I look good in a tan?

Never mind. Don't answer that. If you do I'll...sniff.

Writing emails can only do so much for me. I know I sound sarcastic in this, but I really am upset. It's got to be the water.

Write back.

xxHinaxx

**~o~o~o~o~o~o~**

_From__: Pinkyswearxoxo  
To: SunnyHina192_

awwwwww hinata i wasnt going to patronize you. awww you poor thing, you. it's gonna be alright.

just kidding. but it can't be THAT bad. it's just a summer. and you're only there for a few more weeks, right?

smoochiehug,

sakura

**~o~o~o~o~o~o~**

_From:__ SunnyHina192  
To: Pinkyswearxoxo_Wrong. It's not a few weeks if they decide on actually getting married.

**~o~o~o~o~o~o~**

**Chapter Three**

I wish I could readily say, since a full week has passed living here, that things have changed and I've been made into a better, more understanding person.

Unfortunately, I _cannot_ say that, because that statement is utterly false.

Sasuke is as taciturn as ever, Hanabi as loud. Mikoto is _patronizing_ as always.

And Hiashi seems to be all the more on the brink of wrapping two hands around my neck. From the way I've acted these days, it really is no big surprise.

**XXXXXX**

"Hinaataaaa!"

No response from me, as usual.

"Time for your baaaaaaaaaaaaaath!" Mikoto's voice was obnoxiously loud and yet mellifluously sweet.

Just broadcast this to the whole world, why don't you?

I deliberately waited for ten minutes to pass, then I collected clean clothes and opened the door. The bathtub was in the bathroom of the master bedroom. Hanabi was perched on the railing, playing with her new cellphone.

"Hi! Plan to hibernate in your room forever? Mikoto told you to take a bath. It's ready." Her fingers hovered over the keys, texting. She didn't look up once.

"I already _heard_ her irritating voice the first time," I replied back in somewhat of a snide tone, terrifically annoyed.

"Don't say that!" She lifted her head up indignantly. "She's nice!"

"Yeah, like the Queen of Hearts before she tried to murder Alice."

Hanabi bent her head to the side. "What's that supposed to mean?" And then she was back to typing. I chose not to answer.

"You could be a whole lot nicer to people, Hinata," she half-murmured after I'd turned my back.

I gritted my teeth with vexation, entering the master bedroom without another word. "Don't patronize me, I say, and she does what? She _criticizes _me. As if patronizing isn't bad enough," I snapped under my breath. "Hanabi, I hope you get sickle-cell anemia and - "

And then I paused. The bathroom door opened, and Sasuke stepped out.

Wait. It couldn't be. I mean, Sasukes don't have turbans wrapped around their heads and only a towel wrapped around the waist.

Wait - if that was a towel -

Wait. If that was a _used_ towel, and -

I paused again, summing up the factors, standing there. I'm sure it was all extremely awkward for him, but I needed to figure this out.

And then it clicked.

"Y-you - you _stole _my bath?!"

He didn't react at all.

"The water was getting cold. Hiashi told me to take the bath."

The bath was no big deal. It really wasn't. But the fact that _Hiashi _chose him over me -

Rationally, I knew I shouldn't base judgment on this choice. It was a wise one, actually, since I _had _dawdled. But I wasn't being rational right now. Hanabi had unnervingly and effectively ticked me off, Sakura, my "best friend", had utterly failed at being reassuring, a headache was building its way up my temple -

"Y-you _took my bath._"

And then I burst into tears and - it gets worse - threw my clean underwear at him.

And then I whirled around, preparing for a dramatic and drag-queen-worthy exit, and tripped flat on my face. I screamed bloody murder in the process.

"Hinataaa!" shrieked my sister. "What's - "

"It's nothing!" I interrupted hastily, scrambling up. My intuition pointed _out the door._

I promptly crashed into Mikoto on my way out. "Sorry," I threw over my shoulder, trying to evoke as much emotion as I was able to into that single solitary word.

I sped to my room and locked the door, sat down and buried my head in my hands.

To laugh this off or to cry this off, that is the question.

**XXXXXX**

I bolted the door with a padlock and successfully laughed it off in my room, phasing between silent laughter and occasional giggles.

A knock came from the door. "Hinata?" The name sounded strange on Sasuke's lips. It was the first time he'd called me by my name.

My laughing continued. At this point I'd lost all sanity.

"Are you alright?"

I paused, hiccuping. He actually sounded sincere.

"Are you okay, Hinata?" came a soft, worried voice. "Onee-chan..." Oh no. Not the little sister act.

"If there's anything I can do for you..." hesitated Mikoto's voice, "please name it."

And then the touching family reunion had to be ruined; "Hinata, come out _this instant._ You've caused enough trouble as it is." My father's breathing was uneven. He must have bounded all the way up the stairs to see what had happened.

I started to cry. Big, shameful tears slid down my cheeks and drip-dropped off my palms. Their voices were all concerned, making me believe - for a second - that all the pain could be erased and everything would be just fine. Almost.

I waited until the footsteps pattered away, and then fell asleep propped up against the door.

**

* * *

**

I woke with the most vile taste in my mouth, a splitting headache, but a somewhat clearer mind. I dressed slowly, agonizing over what happened yesterday. I bit my thumb so hard it bled, mulling over thoughts.

There comes a point, I believe, that is breaking point. A moment in time when a person honestly does not care for anything but to express his or her emotion, and in all its entirety.

I stretched, the uncomfortable feeling of dried tears thick on my face.

My eyes must be really small and red, I noted ironically, almost tiredly, even.

I unlocked the door and pulled open the padlock.

Looking down, I stifled a gasp of surprise.

Evidently not everyone had left. Hanabi still sat on the wall near my door, her head lolling to one side.

I didn't know what to make of this.

But somehow I knew I owed her an apology. She was young. She could be unbearably _irksome_ at times, but she was my little sister.

I stepped back into my room, fetched the largest, most comfortable blanket, and returned outside. I placed it onto her still body.

**XXXXXX**

After breakfast was finished and plates were washed, I ventured outside to where the whole family was. The parents - as in, my father, and Mikoto, not joined by marriage (yet) - were involved in an altercation in deciding the color of the plants. Mikoto looked angry at some times, but mostly they looked as if they enjoyed arguing.

I glanced away. Parents. Ugh.

Hanabi had found another thirteen-year old girl down the street. They were roller-blading around the circle, occasionally giggling and glancing at - _him._

I blushed at the memory of what had happened, and folded my arms, trying to look as insignificant as possible.

And then my eyes somehow found Sasuke. Before conscious thought emerged, my legs were carrying me. He was sitting on the grass in the shade. Our gazes met.

* * *

"So," I muttered, sitting down and hugging my knees, "I know what you think of me already." Unconsciously I blushed at my boldness. This wasn't like me.

He waited patiently.

"You think I'm a psycho."

I couldn't turn my head to see his expression; no doubt he agreed with me. Maybe he'd even try to cover it up with a reassuring, empty smile. I cast my gaze onto the dandelions, instead, and picked up a piece of wild grass.

"No."

The piece of grass in my hand drifted down. "What do you - "

"Listen," he said, and it amazed me how he could stop oceans with one command. I fell silent, the words in my mouth halting. "We all cope in different ways. No doubt this marriage has been hard on you."

I hugged my knees tighter.

"Being a teenager means reacting to things more mature people wouldn't react to. We're still growing up. Still learning," he paused, "and it's okay to feel unsure and depressed."

I wanted to nod, but I was afraid that his words were just a dream, and the moment I made the smallest inclination, I'd realize he was pulling my leg.

_This_ was what I had been waiting to hear all this summer, staying here. - That it was fine - normal, almost - to feel so bitter, so _sad_ without 'reason'.

"And let _me _guess," he stipulated, "you think I'm some kind of non-talking, quiet, emo guy."

My eyebrows flew up in shock. "No!" I protested. "No way!"

"Look at me," he said seriously, and, like before, I obeyed, turning my head.

His expression was sober. Skeptical. "You really don't think that."

"N-no..." I defended, stalling to choose the correct words, "I-it's true that you're quiet...and non-talking, for that matter. But you're not emo. You're not that extreme."

I stopped, my cheeks flushed. This was one of the few instances in my life that I remember telling someone my true opinion. I waited for his answer, wondering if he would accept my truth.

It looked as if he had trouble preventing a smile.

And then he sighed. "It's easier not to talk, for me," he amended. "This isn't the first time Mikoto has tried to get married. I've found out that being, well, a smart-ass makes you feel fucked up emotionally. And the other end of it - being sycophantically supportive of the marriage doesn't work either. Not if you actually want people to hear what you have to say.

It's much easier to just stay silent."

At this, I looked up to the sky wistfully. _I'm so different from you_, I thought, and then realized with a start that I'd voiced this aloud.

"That's a good thing," he said quietly.

"Not necessarily." I breathed in. "Hiashi hates me. All this time I've been ruining everything. I take things personally and bottle up my feelings until I explode. I swear I never - well, almost never - show my real feelings, and - it - it's all messed up," I confessed anti-climatically.

This time he didn't respond.

I stumbled on, finding more to express. "I...I'm different from you. Not really a good thing. You're the...ideal son. Mikoto must love you."

His body jerked suddenly. "Don't say that."

I looked up distractedly, the tranquility destroyed. "Say what? That she...loves you?"

He made a motion as if to get up. Before I knew it my fingers hung on to his arm. "Wait. Don't go. Sit down."

He abided warily, his hair hooding his eyes.

"You're quiet. It's a good thing." I tried to fix the moment again. The moment I had inevitably spoiled. At this thought, my eyes teared up. "You _are _good," I rushed on. "Compare t-the way she looks at you to the way Hiashi l-looks at me."

His response was low and hollow.

"You don't know her. She fucking hates me."

I jumped. "No. Don't. It's not true."

I could see the redness of his palm where his fingernails had dug in. Hard.

"You don't know her like I do. You don't know what I did. I'm lucky she still feeds me. She fucking can't forgive me."

I sat through his words with cold dread in my stomach.

His next words were worse.

"And I don't blame her."

He rose without another word and entered the house. From the middle window I saw him climbing the stairs. His gait was heavy and weighed down. I unclenched myself from my posture and searched for thoughts, but found only a feeling of sadness.

What had I expected? Good things couldn't result from this. Nothing good ever came about. While I had finally become un-invisible to someone, now I was just as invisible as before.

What _had_ I expected? I questioned myself. Happiness in finding someone I could relate to? Imagining finally having a friend whom I could share my innermost thoughts with? A brother?

Because I really never had a true friend in my life before.

Harsh tears ringed my eyes at this piece of knowledge.

Life was unfair, I reminded myself, and gazed one last time at the piece of grass I had dropped.

* * *

**End of Chapter Three-**

**Okay. **(it's not that I hate to update. It's just that...well, yeah, I hate to update. In the sense that I feel, "will people like this? or will no one review?!! so yea. and also because of procrastination, but that's another matter entirely.)

Oh. My. God. I haven't updated in over four months. Oh. My. God.

(let's try that again, shall we?)

Oh. My***************God.

(that's better).

This story is getting interesting, I must admit. Maybe even worthy for a plot. (Yes, fellow readers, I usually don't have a plot in hand. It's sad, but true. My story-writing is sadly plotless.)

Anyway, I'm sorry for the late update. If you hate me as much as I do, please drop a critique :)

_-HeavenlyHuntress_

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Um, I'm back? :DDDD  
short recap: hinata has had all kinds of trouble with adapting to the concept of her dad and sasuke's mom marrying. you'll have to skim the last chapter to catch the latest, though.**

* * *

What a feeling  
(I am music now)  
Being's believin'  
(I am rhythm now)  
Pictures come alive, you can dance right through your life...

-Irene Cara, _Flashdance_

* * *

**Title**: My Stepbrother Sasuke  
**Summary**: In the summer before Hinata's senior year, her father and Mikoto Uchiha are getting married. Hell for Hinata - the flower girl - and Sasuke - the ringbearer. Things prove, as usual, much more complicated. SasuHina.  
**Rating**: T of course.  
**Author**: HeavenlyHuntress

* * *

_11:43 PM  
Saturday - late._

I hummed the familiar tune of 'I'm With You' - "It's a damn cold night, I'm trying to figure out this life - won't you - take me by the hand, take me somewhere new...I don't know who you are, but I'm with you...I'm with you..."

_Someone come take me home_, I wished, peering between my fingers onto the darkening lawn. The window was open all the way, and a cluster of stars was rising to meet the moon above the horizon.

It was so incredibly, damn beautiful...

I shut the window and burrowed under my covers, squeezing my eyes tight.

* * *

_11:13 AM  
-bedroom_

I cradled the blue phone in my hands. My only connection with the outside world, it seemed.

"It's really bad, TenTen...I don't know if you'd understand."

"It can't be! Come _on_...living in plush furry big house and having a wedding to boot?! Having parents who love eachother...? _My _parents - they're probably going to divorce soon with all their incessant fighting - "

Her voice was loud to the extent of shrieking, and I half-smiled. That was TenTen.

"You forget, TenTen," I said. "That's exactly what I went through before."

Silence on the other end. I knew how she'd react to that - fake, awkward laughter, then a direct change in subject. It worked surprisingly well on me;

"Oh, ha, oops, Hina. I forgot. Listen, did you know that your cousin's coming in town next week? Rock Lee was making such a big deal out of it...."

I found it difficult to grasp at this. "Neji? Why?"

"To attend some summer camp...probably elite, considering his - " Something muffled came from the other end, and I heard a dinner call, followed by loud sounds of bickering. Breathless, she retained the phone again; "That's just my mom."

"Do you...have to go?"

"No," she assured. "I can wait. Anyway - Neji - at a summer school? Honestly, I knew you Hyuugas were boring, but to such an extent?! School in the _summer_, imagine _that_ - "

"It's betting than being where I am," I said.

I heard a soft, almost angry noise from the doorway.

The phone dropped limply into my palm, TenTen's voice unheeded, while I froze at the scene. The seconds stretched into a single long, timeless moment.

"S-Sasuke," I ventured, while his brows furrowed. The phone squawked, the words jumbled and incoherent. I found that my palms had become sweaty.

"Is it really that bad here?" His voice was quiet and toneless.

In my defense, there was only one thing to say. Subconsciously, I knew it was not the best answer by far - I could lie, or say that I hadn't meant it, but I was honest to the point of being ignorant.

"Y-yes, it is," I rushed on without grace.

His voice closed, and in a fluid motion, he was gone.

The noises all seemed to envelope me, TenTen's insistent demanding on knowing what had happened, the enormity of what I had done, Sasuke's mouth in a line of severe dislike - the cacophony was roaring, and suddenly I didn't know what to do anymore.

"_Shit_," I imprecated, and then slammed the phone into the receiver. It shuddered, then fell onto the floor, separated again. I swiped it up and slammed it again. "_Shit_!"

It _was_ bad - it was _horrific_, from the moment I stepped into the airport to the dysfunctional family gatherings, to Hanabi's innocent acceptance of the situation, all the moments I'd made a fool of myself, but most of all - most of all - my father, his berating words, his emphasis on not messing up _his_ day, _his_ wedding, _his_ soulmate -

I streaked down the stairs and into the family room. My father and Hanabi were watching television. They had finished breakfast.

Mikoto was in the kitchen washing dishes, my sudden footsteps startling her. She wiped a soapy hand across her brow, and then smiled awkwardly at me.

"Still some pancakes left?" Her voice was uncertain, almost as if waiting for my approval.

"I - I - where's Sasuke?" I finished abruptly.

She started slightly, then recovered. "He's...I heard him walk out the garage. He mentioned playing basketball at the park - "

"Thanks," I hastened, then ran and threw open the front door. "I'll be back later I'm not hungry don't wait for me - " I threw the words over my shoulder, and in that split second, I wondered if I were making another huge mistake.

But then the door was slamming and my feet struck across the asphalt and suddenly I was flying -

* * *

A red-haired girl was pulling up weeds at her house as I ran past her. The park was a quarter mile away, maybe it was better to ask, first -

"Hi," I rushed by, coming to halt. "Did you see - by any chance - a guy with black hair coming past here?"

She flicked her hair away in an impatient motion, and then smiled. Her glasses accentuated her beautiful, apricot-shaped eyes.

"Yeah. Sure. I saw him." Her voice was a slow, comfortable drawl.

"D-did he...go that way...?" I pointed to the park in the direction I hoped was right.

"I don't think so. He came by and then took the little trail behind the little grove of trees," she answered, pulling off her cap. Her hair collected at her shoulder, glinting. I had never seen such a violent shiny shade of red before.

"Th-thanks."

She set down her pair of shears. "Why?"

"I - I'm just...I need to..." I gestured frantically, but no words came to mind.

"Oh, I get it." Her eyes glinted in amusement. "That's the reason?"

"N-no," I chastened quickly. "Thank you - bye - " I turned and started down.

"I'd be quick if I were you!" she called after me merrily. "By the looks of _him_, a girl will be around his shoulders in no time at all!"

Her laughter receded in the distance and became lost.

* * *

I spotted him kneeling across a little path of leaves and a little brook. The spot surprised me. I had expected a more secluded area, somehow, but the sunlight found this place easily.

My foot snapped a dead branch on cue, and his head whipped around.

His eyes found me.

Me, awkward pose with arm half-steadied on a tree branch, shorts ragged and old and tattered, knees scraped with mud and whatever else besides...hair muddled and messy, surely the epitome of ugly.

My legs somehow went closer and bent down next to him, not quite touching.

"S-she said that you'd be at t-the park," I fumbled. My words had absolutely no revelance, and my stutter was clearly showing.

I looked down and away, cheeks red and humiliated.

"Really."

"Y-yeah."

"Hn."

I burst out an apology. "I'm sorry! I was - I was being stupid, I really don't feel that way at all - " I was lying again.

"Needless to say, you said it." His voice was flat.

Flat...flatworms - _Cnidarians_, the subject of last year's Biology class surfaced in my thoughts. Flatworms... I giggled, then covered my mouth shamefully.

"You're insufferable, aren't you?"

I only laughed harder, helplessly. "This - isn't helping - is it - ?" I gasped, laughing at the whole absurdity of the situation.

"It's hopeless."

This time, I heard a twinge of humor in his voice. I looked up, but his expression was void of feeling. He could have been looking at a blank wall for all I knew.

"I'm sorry," I said once again, and this time I felt it.

He inclined his head away and gazed out at the reeds that clumped together. They bent and twisted, merging over the thin stream.

He spoke after a while.

"If you're mad, get mad."

I jumped. "I'm not mad," I declined hastily. "I just - I don't know - "

"You don't have to talk to me if you don't feel like it. You don't have to force yourself to like the wedding if you don't like it. You don't have to - " he broke off, waveringly. "You don't have to hide it. I'm sorry for that while ago. It was my fault. If it was really that bad for you, I shouldn't have..."

"It's fine."

And I looked over at the stream accordingly, because there was nowhere else I could look. A little pool of rainwater had collected near a big rock, and small fish were dancing in a semicircle.

It really was beautiful, I felt myself thinking again. This place. The environment. The bedroom, the horizon, the stream, everything. I knew that l loved this place.

"It's just that - "

My ears tensed, listening.

"It's just that you have to try harder."

My eyes widened; I opened my voice to say something, but he jumped in instead; "No, I didn't mean it that way. I meant that...it's not so hard once you...get used to it."

"Get used to what?" I wondered.

"I don't know. The atmosphere. The whole absurd situation of our parents marrying. Once that gets over with, things will be fine."

I agreed out loud.

"But...Hinata..."

His voice had suddenly become rather pained, as if broaching a topic that was painfully personal to him.

"You'll have to be...the daughter that my mom has always wanted."

"Sasuke..."

He shifted. "She's had a hard time with this, just like you. So it's better if you..."

"W-what about Hanabi? She gets along with her quite well." My voice had no rancor. It was just stating fact.

"It's not the same." It seemed like he took a long, thoughtful pause before continuing; "You're a lot like my older brother."

I started, not believing this. _Wait...what?_

"Itachi," he said, and his voice became quiet. "You're a lot like him."

The shadows bathed our bodies in silence. I sat listening to the sliding of the waters, not knowing what to reply with.

"The same responsibility - that is...you're obviously trying to act fine in a situation where it's out of your control..." His tone was almost whimsical. "...trying to make the best of something...you know, she can see that you're trying really hard."

My breathing had shifted up two notches. I whispered, not quite getting the words out, "Really?"

"Everybody can," he said.

I stared at him wide-eyed.

"It's going to be okay," he said, and suddenly, I believed him.

* * *

The sun was already in its apex when we returned. The door opened; Mikoto stood in her apron, arms wide in welcome. "Hungry?"

"Very," I answered shyly, slipping off my shoes and entering the foyer. It was abruptly silent; even after everything, I didn't know how to act, or what to say to her -

I turned around, but found that Sasuke was already gone. He had slipped up the stairs as soon as we had entered.

"Don't worry about him," Mikoto said lightly. "He's got his own unique schedule."

Yesterday's conversation resurfaced in my mind, and I remembered his words; _she fucking hates me._

I opened my mouth - I don't know to do what - ask a question? Touch upon another awkward topic? Pose an anomaly?

I closed it, feeling helpless.

"Um...are there any pancakes left?"

"Yes," she answered, and I followed her into the kitchen.

I looked back on last time, but he really was gone.

* * *

**THANK YOU. I loved reading your comments and I kept searching for those pieces of heart that connect us writers together. Yeah, that gave me strength. Thank you so much for your lovely insightful reviews, they were a joy to read. (what do I sound like, a fawning kindergarten teacher?)**

**Idle Writer of Crack, your reviews get me hysterically happy. Thanks. Notmybigflatscreentv: Sorry. :(. Haruka2007: I understand. And no, you're not extreme in the slightest.  
chocoGONEsushi: you are awesome.**

**-HeavenlyHuntress, a.k.a. LuLu ;)**

**

* * *

**

**FAQ:**

**Q: Has Hinata ever had a 'true friend' before?**  
_  
A: -No. She's belonged with friends, as seen from the very beginning, but she knows that she hasn't found anyone she can truly convey her feelings with. _

**Q: Why does Sasuke think that Mikoto hates him?  
**_  
A: I can't answer that. But there is this: on the outside, Mikoto certainly doesn't show it. _

**Q: Did Sasuke have a hand in Fugaku's or Itachi's (death or) something?**  
_  
A: He seems to think so. _


	5. Chapter 5

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**Recap: Hinata felt better after talking to Sasuke...Mikoto welcomed them when they returned afterwards. The sun was setting...**

You took my heart,  
Deceived me  
right from the start.

you showed me dreams, I wished they'd turn into real,  
you broke the promise  
and made me realize, it was all just a lie.

**-Within Temptation**

* * *

**Title**: My Stepbrother Sasuke  
**Summary**: In the summer before Hinata's senior year, her father and Mikoto Uchiha are getting married. Hell for Hinata - the flower girl - and Sasuke - the ringbearer. Things prove, as usual, much more complicated. SasuHina.  
**Rating**: T of course.  
**Author**: HeavenlyHuntress

* * *

_more than a feeling...it's more than a feeling..._

* * *

_afterwards - dinner-_

Dinner was a quiet affair, the only sounds the clanging of dishes and the occasional sip of water. I found myself unable to meet eyes with my father, worried that he still thought I was upset. So I settled my gaze to the plate across from me, pinpointing it steadily.

"So how was your day, Hanabi?"

A loud clack of putting the cup down. "Awesome, thanks! I found a few friends down the street. I can't believe that one of them has a boy - but I digress!" she finished anti-climatically, giggling.

Mikoto laughed, a lovely ringing sound. My father rested his eyes briefly on hers before looking away.

"And how was your day, Hinata?"

"Good," I mumbled. The words came out jumbled and confused. My father shot me a look. Almost instinctively, I glared at him. I hadn't had a bad day; I'd had a _phenomenal_ day compared to the other bland ones, but now that I hadn't expressed that sufficiently, I couldn't do it _now_. I couldn't just fix it by saying, "Just kidding! I had an excellent day, thanks."

That was _Hanabi_, but not me.

"It was good," I repeated, my voice waning. If only I'd taken the initiative to be more cheerful.

"Good, then," returned Mikoto lightly, and dinner resumed its usual listless pace.

I suddenly couldn't wait to rush up the stairs and have a good cry, or better yet, take a nap. The atmosphere was considerably more tense against my father, and I didn't want to hang around to catch his not-so-subtle glances. I collected my dishes and started up, my eyes still focused on the plates.

"Before you go, Hinata," hesitated Mikoto, stammering over her words also, "I have an announcement to make."

A shrill scream emanated from my sister. "The marriage is going to be in two days!" Hanabi shrieked. "I can't wait!"

I half-winced. A sarcastic "Lovely," came out of mouth before I had the chance to shove it back in.

My father suddenly rose and slammed his plate down, spoon skittering off onto the fiercely clean kitchen tiles. His mouth convulsed, as if trying to restrain from cursing at me. His hands shook, and in an abrupt decision, he rammed a palm down and pushed his chair back.

"Apologize," he ordered furiously. ""Apologize. Now."

"But, Father, I - "

"Now!" he roared, and spit flew out his mouth. His chin trembled with rage, and his eyes were tight and red. "NOW!"

"I'm sorry," I rushed hastily, muffling the tears, "I'm sorry." _Geez, Dad, geez, fuck, fuck, fuck._

My cheeks reddened and I hung my head abashedly. It was my fault again, wasn't? Was it surprising? Was it surprising that it was my fucking fault again - ?

"Go. To. Your room, now. Have you finished your summer reading yet? You've been wandering around the house, doing nothing - what the hell do you want to do in life, daughter? What have you been doing these days? Here I was, trying to give you a break, and this is how you respond?"

"N-no, Dad, I'm - I'm not!"

"_IS THIS HOW YOU'RE TRYING TO RESPOND TO IT?"_ he yelled. As if to add to the unfairness of the situation, I thought I saw tears emerging from his eyes.

_I should be the one crying_, _I'm the one who has a horrible father._

"Hiashi," implored Mikoto, and her voice was frail and timid. Suddenly I hated her, hated her unjustly, but I didn't care. She had been the one to reel my father in, to ruin my life and to make us move. She had cooked her delicious home-made meals, made my father love her - _made my father love her_!

He didn't even love me.

"You know what?" he demanded, and he turned to his future wife almost in defeat, throwing up his trembling, old hands. "I'm done. I know I'm done. Do you see my daughter? Do you _see_ her? Is this how she's grown up? How has she grown up to be this person? Do you see her?"

The tears were streaming down my face now and I received the aching truth of words, what my father thought of me. I gave into crying, silent and shuddering sobs. I wouldn't let my body shake, and I swallowed the fits of coughing that always came with crying. _I won't let them I won't let them I won't let them_ -

But I did. And a loud sob came from my mouth.

Mikoto's clear voice that I hated continued to beg.

"Hiashi, Hiashi - "

"What have _I_ done?" he snapped to me. "What have I done to deserve this? A daughter who does not appreciate the value of a good home, and not only this, but - "

"Hinata doesn't think that," Sasuke retorted, almost automatically. His words were defensive but calculatingly detached. His face was completely impassive.

My father's eyes bulged. "Don't come into our - "

"She really doesn't hate the marriage," Sasuke interrupted again. He collected his own dishes without looking down, and the plates clashed loudly with eachother as if to enunciate his points. His eyes met my fathers' squarely. "She's actually very supportive of you, so please don't make any assumptions."

"Sasuke, don't get into this - " Mikoto's voice were pleading.

"You know what? I am. It's too late. And you know what else I think? I think Hinata's reaction is the best to this situation. None of her sister's fake enthusiastic support, none of my stoic unresponsiveness, none of your blatant ignorance of how she feels - "

"Be _quiet_!" barked Hiashi. He turned onto Sasuke with a snarl on his lips. "You, my son, you do not understand the enormosity of this. I need to coach Hinata how to think, because evidently she doesn't know how to do so properly! _You don't come into this!_"

Mikoto turned furious. "My God, Hiashi! Sasuke is my son. Don't you try to castigate him!"

"Well, he's as much my son as yours, isn't he?" thundered Hiashi, all of his tender gaze at her disappearing. "With the finalization of the marriage, he's my son and I can reprimand my children, can't I?"

"Notlike _that_!"

"Then if I don't, he'll just be another spoiled brat who doesn't know how to behave properly - "

"How _dare_ you suggest that my son is a spoiled brat!" hissed Mikoto.

Sasuke had suddenly turned to stone.

"I did not merely _suggest_ it," snapped my father. "I _meant_ it."

Mikoto turned quiet abruptly, sound escaping her mouth. Almost mechanically, she stepped forward and struck him across the face. I nearly expected her to hiss, "I _refuse_ to marry you."

But she whipped around, sobbing, and ran out the kitchen. She still had her cooking apron on.

My father stood there like a statue, unresponsive to external surroundings. Sasuke muttered, "What a fucked up, dysfunctional family," under his breath and stalked to the garage door, slamming it on the way out.

Hanabi sat crying on her chair, mouth open in mid-chew, food forgotten and cold on the table.

The whole argument seemed to settle onto my shoulders, and I had trouble breathing. I couldn't...I couldn't.

It was all my fault, wasn't it? whispered a cynical voice in my ear.

I turned and streamed up the stairs, wanting the terrible feelings of prickly shame to disappear.

_The marriage is in two days._

* * *

**Yeah, most the action occured in this chapter. But no, it doesn't mean that Sasuke will always stand up for Hinata, or that Hiashi and Mikoto will not reconcile. The next chapter might have the mysterious girl who gave Hinata directions (from last chapter!). I can't believe no one guessed who she is. :3**

**I can most likely get the next chapter in by next week, because this week was relatively unharried. **

**Thanks for your support!  
-H.H.**


	6. Are you in?

Dear readers, writers, and reviewers,

I have (finally) got news for you. It's good news and bad news. Which do you want first? (Okay, this is a one-way conversation, so I'll choose bad).

I am moving to Fictionpress (no, keep reading). I'm never, ever going to quit writing, but I am going to quit fanfiction-writing. I know there's two types of readers on this site: the first type, which constitutes a certain percent, only read fanfiction to read about the characters in a book or manga. The second type reads fanfiction for the characters but also the story itself, which is what I hope you looked at when you read my stories.

The reason for this move is simple: I'm tired of writing about characters that are not mine. From the beginning, my stories (for example, I am Hinata Hyuuga) were out-of-character. Readers wrote that my Hinata seemed too random and bold. I excused this by saying she was bold inside and quiet inside, which I actually don't believe for the real Hinata in the manga. So, experiencing cognitive dissonance, I've now decided that I won't write about Hinata anymore. I love Hinata and she was the reflection of who I was for a long time, but I've already wrote my own stories - with my own characters - and they are more satisfying.

That said, I'll move on to the **good news**:

Stories like The Journal will be continued. I'll repost a few Fanfiction stories onto Fictionpress, but I'll rewrite them so they're better. They'll have more "me" in them. There will be characters who will vary more than the set of characters that Masashi Kishimoto (Naruto's creator) has provided me. Of course I'll give them new names, add characters, etc. With less limits, I think I'll write better.

But I'm writing such stories for two things: myself, for improving my writing, and you guys, the readers. If you're not interested, then I am most likely not going to continue my stories on Fictionpress.

So are you in, or are you out?

As always,  
love,  
H.H.


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